I, the metereopatica

London came and went. I had a brilliant time - thank you to all of you who did fun stuff with me, cried and laughed with me, and a special thank you to those of you who offered me a place to sleep! Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me so I can't show you any photos, but I can tell you the city has changed so much even in just the 12 months since my last visit. Everything is being spruced up for the Olympics, I nearly didn't even recognize my old hood in East London.

I did a ton of stuff; Sunday morning started with a Classical Coffee Morning concert at Royal Albert hall. It's basically a cup of tea/coffee, a pastry and some live music. My friend introduced me to this thing about a year ago (thank you!) when I last went to London and I'm glad it's still going on because it's a really nice way to start a Sunday.  After that we had a little stroll around the Victoria and Albert Museum, which is currently hosting an exhibition on Postmodernism. The grand finale of my week was an out-of-control shopping spree that lasted a good two days - I literally went to a bar (or several of them) with all my shopping bags, miraculously not losing anything, and continued shopping the next day as soon as I managed to get myself moving again.

The school observation at the East Barnet School was really interesting and I enjoyed my week probably more than I expected. There are some interesting differences in the school systems as far as I can see, but I think that is something I will not get into in this post. Maybe I'll write a whole post dedicated to it at some point.

Autumn has definitely arrived in Italy now. For the past couple of days it has been raining a lot and I have learned a new word metereopatica meaning a person whose mood is heavily affected by the weather. I have self-diagnosed myself as such a person. These rainy days leave me feeling blue, full of regrets and feeling - even more than normally - like I've lost a huge part of myself. I don't how to overcome this sadness and to be quite honest maybe I'm not yet ready to do so either. However, it's not all doom and gloom and tears; there are days and moments when things seem a little lighter and easier than even a month ago.

On Sunday I visited the local IKEA and went a little crazy with all the wonderful Christmas things they already had on display. It's high time too! Those of you who have worked with me before I moved to Italy, know that I would gladly start listening to Christmas carols and decorate everything already in October. That said, it is hardly a surprise that I ended up buying gingerbread smelling tea lights, a Christmas-red rug, glögi and some gingerbread to bring home. Now I can organise a pikkujoulu (a very Finnish pre-Christmas party) for me and my flatmates! I love coming home from work in the evening and opening my door. I put some tea lights on top of the radiators so that as I open the door and step on my christmassy rug, I can already smell gingerbread even before lighting the candles.

I'm wishing you all warm woolen socks and hot cups of tea for these autumn evenings.

Image: pixtawan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image: think4photop / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

A big hug and a thank you

The point of my last night's rant was not to attack my friends. I was questioning the behaviour of certain individuals, some of whom are involved in my life and some of whom I have just been watching from a distance.

To friends and family who are and have been helping and supporting me: I really appreciate it. I was not looking to make you feel guilty. Unfortunately it seems that those of you who have actually nothing to feel bad about, worry that I'm upset with you, where as the people who could mostly benefit from my rant are blissfully ignorant that I have even ever ranted.

Just to make it really clear: guys (you know who you are), thank you. I would be a far bigger mess without you. I hope one day I will be able to pay you back one way or another.

Baci

Compassion in action

In the past weeks something has really been bugging me; it seems that the more people have resources or the more influential they are, the less willing they are to help. Yes, many people have given me their condolences or good advice: "try not to stay alone too much, we are here for you" but the moment these beautiful words have left their mouth they are already forgotten. Let alone if you actually have a real problem that you need real help with, people run like you've just been hit with a sudden case of the Black Death. Compassion, it seems to me, too often reaches no deeper than our lips.

Only those, who have very little or nothing themselves, are willing to give. This real compassion is rare but it exists. I have seen it in action. A member of my family has had some health issues and I've watched, green with envy, how his friends have stepped up for him, helping with little practical things when us - the family - are too far to run the errands for him while he is getting better.

I've seen near strangers holding back tears of compassion, offering whatever help they can give to me, while people I hoped would stand by me were too busy buying concert tickets or going to Zumba (figuratively speaking of course, I'm not against anyone's Zumba lessons).

I've seen friends and strangers pulling together to help an entire family. I was lucky enough to be one of the people who helped, even if in a very small way, an entire family in need. I wasn't able to do anything huge. Maybe the most valuable thing I gave was my time and attention, but at the end of the day, people who I had only just met, helped me in return in a way that left me thinking: who ended up helping who here?

Why is it so hard to help a friend in need? Why, when someone has a problem and needs real help, those who would have the means to do something about it, turn their back? Is it that those who have never needed help don't understand the need to help anyone else? God protect me from becoming so blind to other people's needs.